


The Stars Have All Been Blown Out (You Left Me In The Dark)

by Rainbowrites



Category: Glee
Genre: 3.14, F/F, Gen, M/M, On My Way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-09
Updated: 2012-03-09
Packaged: 2017-11-01 17:07:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/359251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainbowrites/pseuds/Rainbowrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The things Blaine didn't say and the things that Santana didn't mean to say show so much more than they wanted.</p>
<p>Inside the heads of Blaine and Santana during the group circle scene in 3.14</p>
<p>Spoilers for 3.14 "On My Way" and eps before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Stars Have All Been Blown Out (You Left Me In The Dark)

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by the quote "When it is dark enough, you can see the stars” Ralph Waldo Emerson. Except that's actually a really hopeful quote and my story is basically... not. A reaction fic to "On My Way"
> 
> Title inspired by the lyrics from the Florence + The Machine Song “Cosmic Love.” The actual lyrics are ‘the stars, the moon, they have all been blown out/ you left me in the dark' but I figured the title was long enough already xD

Santana knows she’s supposed to say something uplifting. Well, not really. She’s Santana fucking Lopez, she doesn’t _do_ sweet and sappy. (Well, unless it’s with Brittney, but that doesn’t count. Britt is Britt. It’s different.)

She licks her lips, already knowing the perfect thing. _I’m looking forward to the day I ditch this cowtown and leave all you eating my fairy dust_. Bitchy and completely true. It’s perfect. 

Santana can feel someone staring at her as she listens to Finn. When she turns her head, she can see Kurt staring at her. Well. Not _at_ her. That would imply he’s actually seeing her. He looks completely checked out, staring despairingly through her. Santana would try and wonder what he’s seeing, but she knows. 

She wants to throw up. And suddenly she knows the only thing she really wants in life, more than winning Nationals, more than Brittney to tell her she loves her, more than getting out of this godforsaken place, more than anything, is to eat a tortilla. Abuela always made them from scratch, and had threatened to scratch Santana’s eyes out with her toasting fork if Santana even _considered_ putting the store-bought garbage into her mouth. She’d know, she’d said, raising one eyebrow in that imperious look that Santana based all her best bitch looks on.

She hadn’t eaten one since. Since that night. She didn’t have anyone to make them for her anymore. Santana had to stare at the floor to keep herself from – crying? Freaking out? Project vomiting Blair witch style? – from doing _something_ when she realized that no one was stopping her from just buying one.

She barely even realizes what she was saying, until she does.

“I’m looking forward to the day my grandmother loves me again.”

She can almost taste the warm, floury stretch between her teeth. 

\--

_I’m looking forward to the day my grandmother loves me again._

It’s like a punch to the gut. Blaine is suddenly fervently, guiltily glad he’s sitting down because otherwise he thinks he might have fallen. He didn’t – he didn’t know. He stares at his clasped hands and wonders what else he doesn’t know. It’s physically painful not to be able to reach out and touch Kurt. Even if he never did, knowing he could was sometimes good enough. But Kurt wouldn’t talk to him, would only look at him with dead eyes and say “If I’d just picked up that damn phone” and turn away when Blaine tried to tell him that no, it wasn’t his fault. He squeezes his hands and tries not to hate Karofsky for making Kurt look like that again.

Suddenly everyone’s eyes are on him and he realizes that he’s supposed to say something.

“I… am” he looks at the ceiling, because he knows that if he looks at Kurt, or if he sees Santana, he’ll end up saying something he’ll regret. Or worse, the truth. “Looking forward to…” He nearly choked on everything screaming to get out, clawing at his throat as it raged.

_the day my mother can look me in the eye_

_finding the thing that I can do to make my father proud of me again_

_seeing people smile at me and not wondering if they mean it_

_being able to visit a hospital without getting flashbacks so bad I can't breathe_

_not having to be scared anymore_

_knowing who I am_

_being stronger_

_being braver_

_being better_

He swallowed. _I’m waiting for this cough syrup to come down_

“marriage equality in all fifty states.” He sees Kurt flash him a tight, tired smile before turning his attention to Mike, who’s saying something about dancing at Carnegie Hall.

Blaine tries not to feel bitter when he realizes that Mike’s dream will probably come true before his. Before all of them.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this only planning for Santana's part, and then rewatching the episode to make sure I got the dialogue right I noticed how hesitant Blaine was while answering. Thus, the second half of this fic was born. Sorry if they don't seem to go together very well >


End file.
